


An Alpha Is (pt 1)

by worstpersoninyourfandom



Series: She-Ra A/B/O BS [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, Internalized Misogyny, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Self-Hatred, Shadow Weaver made them do it, alpha!Adora, as much consent as is possible in a/b/o dynamics, no beta we just die, omega!Catra, the username should be its own warning, which is not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstpersoninyourfandom/pseuds/worstpersoninyourfandom
Summary: Adora grows up confused about what she's supposed to be. Shadow Weaver tells her what an alpha is, or is supposed to be, but she'd not sure if she wants to fill that role.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: She-Ra A/B/O BS [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952122
Comments: 10
Kudos: 153





	An Alpha Is (pt 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Shadow Weaver's got a lot of internalized shit to work through, man.

Shadow Weaver had many opinions about what an alpha was and should be.

“An Alpha is strong,” she told Adora as she hung, dangling, from the rope in the training arena, unable to hoist herself up.

“An Alpha is brave,” when Adora shrunk back from Hordak’s gaze.

“An Alpha does not let herself be questioned,” when she followed Lonnie’s plan in a training drill.

“You’ll make a fine Alpha, Adora, but you must purge yourself of these Omega weaknesses.”

Adora didn’t fully understand what Shadow Weaver meant. (“An Alpha doesn’t ask so many questions, Adora, it makes you seem dull.”) She knew she was an alpha, regardless of what she acted like, because she had a penis. Catra did not, which Shadow Weaver disapproved of. But, Kyle did, and Shadow Weaver still didn’t favor him the way she did Adora, Lonnie, and Rogelio. She knew Shadow Weaver herself was an omega, had heard Hordak say so, which only served to further complicate her confusion. It wasn’t like these designations had any real bearing on her day to day life, so she pushed them aside. She had more important things to focus on, like training and keeping Catra out of the path of Shadow Weaver’s wrath.

Though Shadow Weaver had told her, time and time again, that Catra was different, Adora didn’t quite believe her. Didn’t believe her that is, until they were about 10. She would learn, years later, that Magicats developed faster, hit puberty faster, and therefore presented earlier. Catra would stop growing by 13, but at 10 her body was years ahead of Adora’s.

It was the middle of the night, and Adora awoke with a start. She looked to the foot of her bunk, anxious to find Catra’s sleeping form in her usual location. It was bare. She felt her breathing pick up as she looked around the room, scanning for potential unrest, potential enemies. Suddenly, a shadow moved, materialized into a quickly moving shape. The dark form came at her faster than she could react, and suddenly Adore found herself with a lap full of cat. Very warm cat.

“Adora!” Catra whisper-shouted, “I’m so glad you’re awake!” Adora could feel her start to purr at the sentiment.

“Hey, Catra,” Adora greeted her, nerves subsiding, “Can’t sleep?” she knew the other cadet was prone to wander when sleep alluded her. Wander or come up the bed to snuggle close to Adora’s face, that is.

“I feel hot,” was all the answer Catra gave, whist rubbing her face along the patch of Adora’s neck exposed by her sleep shirt. Adora didn’t feel warm, but then again, Catra always seemed to run warmer than her. She reached up to feel her friend’s forehead. Catra leaned into the touch, purring louder.

“You smell niiiiiiiice,” she slurred, shoving her face further into Adora’s neck. Adora blushed, confused at the attention her normally prickly friend was lavishing on her. She steadied herself, and tried again to feel the other’s forehead. It was warm, as was the rest of her face.

“Catra, I think you have a fever,” she whispered, worried about the others who shared their room.

“No I don’t,” Catra protested, coloring high along her cheekbones. Her voice was loud in the quiet of the room, and Adora tensed at the sound. She stilled her breathing, then relaxed when only the sound of Rogelio’s snoring filled the air around them.

“Yes, you do,” she whispered fiercely, “You should ask Shadow Weaver what to do.” At the sound of the sorcerer’s name, the cat in her arms stiffened.

“I don’t want to,” Catra said, pushing her hands against Adora’s chest, putting distance between them. “I don’t like her.”

“Well I can’t do anything about it!” Adora protested, “I haven’t taken First Aid yet.” Catra didn’t reply, but instead began to rub her whole body along Adora’s, rumpling the sheets in the process. Her purring, which had stopped at the mention of Shadow Weaver, now resumed at an even higher decibel.

“Catra, something’s not right, I’m worried about you.”

“You’re… worried? Thass cute,” Catra erupted into a fit of giggles. Adora was really concerned now, this behavior was beyond atypical of her friend. It was time to tell an adult, she reasoned, this was too much for her to handle alone. Slowly, she extricated herself from Catra, much to the other’s disappointment.

“Adoooraa,” Catra whined, “come back.” Instead, Adora grasped her arm and pulled her up, leading her as quietly as possible to the door. It closed behind them with a soft click as she scanned the hallway. Empty, for now.

“Where are we going?” Catra questioned. Adora didn’t respond, knowing the cat wouldn’t like the answer. Moving quietly as was possible with a very affectionate, and giggly, companion, Adora got them to Shadow Weaver’s door without being noticed. They had to duck into the shadows of the Fright Zone’s many corridors once or twice, but she was used to it from their many ‘unsanctioned’ adventures. Only, it was rare to be the one leading.

At Shadow Weaver’s door, Catra seemed to realize what was going on. She stopped rubbing up on Adora, and began to try to pull away instead. Adora held her hand tight, silently apologizing, and knocked. The door opened before she had even finished, their leader’s long shadow tentacles spilling out into the hallway.

“I could smell you coming,” Shadow Weaver sneered. Adora had noticed a subtle, sweet smell coming from Catra, but she found it pleasant.

“Shadow Weaver, I think Catra’s sick,” she explained. Catra was still trying to get away, but was stopped by shadow tentacles. They wrapped around her, lifting her up and into the room behind Shadow Weaver.

“Go back to bed Adora, I’ll take care of this.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Adora was still worried, and the brave face she had put on for the walk there was beginning to crack.

“Don’t worry Adora,” Shadow Weaver reached down, cupping Adora’s check, “go get some sleep.” Reluctantly, Adora headed back to her quarters. She didn’t bother to hide this time, ignoring the questioning looks of various night guards.

In bed, Adora couldn’t sleep. She felt wrong without the familiar weight by her feet. Her pillow still had some of that strange, sweet smell Catra was giving off, and she breathed it in, trying to comfort herself.

Adora didn’t see Catra for three days. On the second day, Shadow Weaver came to watch their agility lessons. After, Adora approached her, shy without her brave friend.

“Um, Shadow Weaver?”

“Yes, darling?” Shadow Weaver smelled vaguely like Catra, but with another scent, dark and cloying, underneath. It made Adora’s heart speed up, and she tripped over her words.

“Where’s, uh, Catra? Is she, is she ok?”

“Of course,” Shadow Weaver responded dismissively. “She’s still in my chambers, riding out her heat.” Adora had heard that word before, in their bio class, knew what it meant.

“Is she an omega?”

(“An Alpha doesn’t ask so many questions, Adora, it makes you seem dull.”)

Shadow Weaver sighed.

“Yes, though I hoped she’d at least be a beta.” She ran a hand over her mask, pushed her hair out of the way. Adora said nothing, holding her tongue for once. Shadow Weaver straightened, then looked down at her. Adora squirmed under the masked gaze, hands clasped firmly behind her back. She knew eye contact was polite, but never knew where to look in the mask’s eye slits.

“Though I suppose,” Shadow Weaver mused, almost to herself, “she may prove useful yet.”

_Useful_ was a strange word choice, as Adora knew Catra was already a strong solider, even at ten, and had the makings of a competent leader. So, she filed the comment away with all the other confusing things Shadow Weaver said, and waited for Catra to come back. When she did, there were bags under her eyes, and she snapped when Adora asked what had happened. There was still that same sweet smell lingering around her, but it was nearly overtaken by another, more acidic smell. When she finally presented, years later, she would come to identify the smell as fear.

Adora was, of course, an alpha. Her body showed it from birth, but it wasn’t until she was 14 that the other parts of her secondary gender became clear. She grew more muscular, her sense of smell became more refined, and she began to notice her best friend in new, not-so-innocent ways. Meanwhile, Catra continued to disappear into Shadow Weaver’s rooms for three days every few months. Eventually Kyle started doing the same, but he didn’t smell as sweet, or as scared afterwards.

Catra still slept curled at the foot of Adora’s bed, and she was glad of the little distance it afforded her. It made it much easier to hide her reaction upon waking from dreams involving rough cat tongue in _unusual_ places. Still, she managed to avoid disturbing her bed mate, and instead worked her burgeoning sexual frustration out on the training field. It paid off when they began to be sent out on real missions, and Shadow Weaver took notice.

“Adora,” she’d purr, caressing her face with a scarred hand, “That was excellent. I’m very proud of you.” Adora glowed at the praise, tamping down the feelings of discomfort when the hand lingered far longer than necessary. Shadow Weaver, it seemed, only came to debrief after training right when Adora was fresh from the shower. She pulled her towel tighter, wishing Catra hadn’t already gone back to their room.

“You’re becoming a fine alpha Adora, and I think I see leadership potential in you.”

“What about Catra?” Adora asked “She’s strong too.” Shadow Weaver’s face darkened.

“Don’t be silly, you know she’s an Omega. One can’t lead while remaining a slave to their baser desires.”

_What about you?_ Adora wanted to scream. _And what about my desires?_

Orientation stayed a mystery to Adora, until nearly a year later. Their mission had gone completely sideways, and Adora had to jump in at the last minute to prevent Catra being swallowed by some sort of giant carnivorous plant, blowing the whole plan. Now, they waited in Shadow Weaver’s rooms, while she paced in front of them. Adora stood ramrod straight, hands clasped behind her back, mentally cataloguing places where she could have done something different. Catra slouched, looking down with her tail flicking rapidly side to side. Suddenly, Shadow Weaver turned, rounding on them.

“Now, what went wrong?” Her voice was quiet, measured, but with an undercurrent that sent chills down Adora’s spine.

“It was my fault,” she began, as Catra said, “That damn plant…”

“My fault,” Adora repeated, “I should have been keeping a closer eye on my teammates.”

“Adora, while a leader must take some responsibility, which you did in heroically saving Catra, even you are not immune to other’s gross incompetencies.” Catra stiffened at that, and looked like she was about to respond. However, any words died on her tongue when Shadow Weaver abruptly bent down, bringing her face near Catra’s neck. She inhaled sharply.

“Though I suppose, it isn’t your fault really, is it Catra?” Her tone had changed, and now it seemed smug, like she’d caught them stealing food from the kitchens again.

“After all, you can’t help your biology.” Catra’s eyes widened, almost comically.

“Oh shit, my heat…” she whispered.

“You should really do a better job keeping track of it, you know,” Shadow Weaver continued, straightening her back.

“I will forgive you this once, because it serves me well, but do not neglect it again.” She began to draw a spell circle in the air.

“Now, it is time I taught you girls a lesson, one about power, and about dominance, and about your places in the world. Adora, darling,” she turned, the circle almost finished, “I think I have the perfect reward for your thoughtful choices today.” Before Adora could say anything, Shadow Weaver cast the spell on to Catra. The effect was instant. She crumpled to the ground, folding in on herself. When Adora followed a few moments after, thrumming with fear for her friend, she was hit with a wave of dizzying scent. It was like the soft sweet smell Catra carried before and after her heats, but drummed up to a thousand. It was the best thing Adora had ever smelled. She hesitated, hand over Catra’s prone form, the smell making her head fuzzy and her cock swell. Catra stirred and moaned. The sound was one of distress, and it spurred her to action.

“Catra?” she asked, laying a hand on the other’s arm. She was burning hot to the touch, and pushed up into Adora’s hand.

“Hurts,” she mumbled, almost to herself, “Need you.”

“What did you do to her!?” Adora demanded, looking accusingly up at Shadow Weaver.

“Nothing her biology didn’t already have in store,” she replied dismissively. “You know what you need to do Adora.”

She knew, at least, what she should do. She should pick Catra up, carry her far from here, and keep her safe. But that scent was getting into her brain, taking her thoughts and twisting them, inviting her darkest fantasies out. She pushed them down.

“She’s in pain, you need to help her,” she pleaded with Shadow Weaver.

“Once an omega is this far into their heat, only an alpha’s knot will give them relief.” She flicked her hand, and a cage of shadow sprung up around them. “Give in to the alpha inside, Adora, do your duty. You know you want to, you’re practically dripping with desire.” It was true, her cock was rubbing a wet patch against the front of her uniform pants, still muddy from their failed mission. Adora tried to drown out the words.

“Catra?” she asked again, gently turning her friend to face her, “What do you need?” Catra looked up at her, eyes completely eclipsed by pupil, unfocused and half shut.

“Need… need you, Alpha,” she whined, practically dragging herself into Adora’s lap. This close, it was nearly impossible to focus.

“I need you to tell me exactly what to do, ok?” She had to know Catra wanted this, even if her current state was Shadow Weaver’s doing. Catra was tugging at her own clothes now.

“I need to feel you, your skin.”

“Ok,” was all Adora could manage. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and pulled her own shirt off. Catra, already shirtless, pressed tightly against her chest. Instinctively, Adora’s hands came up to cradle her back and bottom, and were met with a growing stain of slick. _So damn wet_. The thought was impossibly erotic, and made Adora catch her breath. She hated herself for wanting it, when Catra was in no state to consent. This was absolutely not how she had imagined their first time, when she had dared to imagine it at all. Catra’s mouth on her neck, rough tongue over her mating gland, pulled her from her downward spiral.

“Can I take you pants off?” she asked, and when did her voice get so husky? Catra didn’t answer, just moved to do it herself. Without the thin layer of fabric, the smell was so much more intense.

Adora gave in. It was inevitable, and Catra needed it, and there was nothing else for her to do. She might as well focus on the task at hand, and get it over with. She reached a hand down, along slick-soaked fur to the top of Catra’s thigh.

“Can I?” she managed.

“Yes, yes, yes please,” Catra moaned, moving so Adora’s hand slipped the last few centimeters to her clit. It was awkward and fumbly, but judging by the look of extasy on Catra’s face it was exactly what she needed. She rubbed circles on the nub before switching her position to slip a finger into the source of all that slick. With her thumb still focused on the clit, she probed deeper into Catra’s tight heat. It was beyond exquisite.

“More,” Catra begged into her neck, beginning to gyrate in Adora’s lap. She added another finger easily, and experimentally curled them. Catra’s body shook, and she panted out her orgasm into Adora’s sweaty hair, but didn’t stop moving. _She needs a knot,_ Adora realized, _nothing else is going to be enough._ Then, _she needs my knot._ She had jerked off in the showers enough to know that she wasn’t exactly small, especially compared to her friend. Catra felt even smaller now, cradled in her lap. She was glad of her broad shoulders, hoping they hid most of what was going on from their undesired audience.

Adora spread her fingers, testing the stretch of Catra’s inner walls. They moved easily, soft and wet from the hormones raging in her system. Another finger, and she curled them again, making Catra shake in her arms.

“Please, Alpha, need your knot.” It was all the encouragement Adora needed. She pulled her hand back, and Catra whined at the loss. Clumsily, she took her own pants off, loath to separate from her friend for any longer than necessary. Her cock sprung free, and stood straining against her stomach. As soon as her hands returned to Catra’s hips, the other was lifting up on shaky legs, trying to impale herself. With one hand remaining on her hip, Adora used her other to quickly lubricate herself with slick. She guided the head of her weeping cock towards Catra’s entrance, but let the other dictate the pace. She needn’t have hesitated. Catra practically slammed her hips down, fully sheathing Adora inside her, and knocking the wind out of her. As good as those walls had felt around her hand, this feeling was unparalleled. Adora threw her head back, panting as Catra rode her. She knew it wouldn’t last long, it was her first time after all, so she tried to focus on savoring the sensation. It was nearly impossible to focus though, and she felt her orgasm coming fast.

“Catra, I’m gonna cum,” she warned, which only seemed to spur the other on.

“Yes, yes, knot me, please,” the other chanted. Shakily, Adora brought her hand back to Catra’s clit, working it in time with her thrusts. She felt her knot start to swell, and Catra keened at the feeling. Then, suddenly, she was up and over the precipice, releasing deep into her friend while the other shook with her second orgasm. Her knot was fully out now, tying them together. Catra’s claws left long steaks down her back, but her body barely registered the pain, too lost in the pleasure to notice.

When she came down, Catra was panting into her neck. She pressed her forehead against Adora’s shoulder, and took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” she whispered against the other’s soft skin. Adora wrapped her arms tighter around her in response. They sat there, catching their breath for a little while. Soon, Catra’s breathing evened out. A lifetime of a shared cot told Adora she was asleep. She waited for her knot to go down, then gently slipped out, careful not to wake her friend. She was so beautiful, even with sweat matted hair, and mud still on her face. Adora’s heart threatened to burst with the love she felt for the cat in her arms.

Soon as it came, their moment of peace was shattered. In her post-orgasmic bliss, Adora had forgotten the series of events that got them there. The shadow cage tightened around them, pulling in towards Catra. It ripped her from Adora’s arms, completely stiff. Shadow Weaver floated the cat’s immobile form over to herself.

“Bravo, Adora, I knew you had it in you.” Then, in a puff, they were both gone. Adora reached out a hand, useless, after them. She had seen it happen enough times to know it was pointless to try and follow. Dejectedly, she stood on shaky legs, and slowly got dressed. As she walked through the halls, she knew that everyone she passed could smell it on her, even the betas. Still, there must have been enough pain visible on her face that no one stopped her.

She didn’t cry until she was safe under the water of the shower. The water stung against the scratches on her back, but she didn’t care. She deserved the pain. She had failed her friend, given right into Shadow Weaver’s twisted desires. She should have run, should have taken Catra far from that place and kept her safe. But no, she did exactly what Shadow Weaver said. _This is what it means to be an alpha then. To hurt the ones you love, to take and dominate with no regard for anything else. Shadow Weaver was wrong, it’s us who are slaves to our desires._

Wrung out, she crawled into bed to sleep, ignoring her teammates’ questions about how the briefing went. In the morning, Catra was back in her own bunk, her heat artificially shortened by Shadow Weaver’s spell. She smelled like decay and acid, like heartbreak and fear. Adora hesitated to say anything, and when she looked back Catra was already gone. They didn’t talk about it. They never talked about it. Things went back to normal, after a while, and the dreams stopped, replaced by nightmares in which she held Catra down, raped her while she protested. Eventually, even those stopped. And eventually, she left.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a few stories I have planned, and lemme tell you its gonna get worse before it gets better. But it will get so much better! TBH, my kink is like, extreme hurt/comfort. I wanna see characters get absolutely destroyed, then treated with such gentle kindness by people who love them. So if you know any fics like that, drop them in the comments!


End file.
